


Hope Against Hiraeth

by shaggydogstail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family, F/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail
Summary: As she prepares to marry Ted, Andromeda reflects on the family she leaves behind.





	Hope Against Hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brachylagus_fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brachylagus_fandom/gifts).



> Hiraeth is a Welsh word with no direct English translation. It's homesickness for a home you can never return to, longing for a past that never existed.

Andromeda shifts from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to use _just_ _a little_ magic to relax the fierce grip her brand-new shoes have on her toes.  It doesn’t seem the place to be using magic, though, in this unfamiliar, slightly ugly building full of smiling Muggles and unimpressive furniture.

_Oh, do catch a grip_ , Andromeda thinks to herself.  Mother isn’t coming, so there’s no need to allow her petty snobberies to intrude.  At the thought of her mother Andromeda’s hand flies to her neck, instinctively touching the locket which nestles at the base of her throat.  She’s worn it since she was a girl: it was a birthday gift from her parents shortly before she started at Hogwarts, and Andromeda almost never takes it off, fancifully imaging the glittering triple emeralds represent her and her sisters.

It had been a silly idea then, and sillier now, with Andromeda about to do the one thing that might just mean neither of her sisters, nor her parents, will ever talk to her again.  She takes a deep breath to steady her nerves.  It might not be that bad.  Keeping the wedding secret is just sensible, and Andromeda knows very well just how livid her family will be when they found out, knows even more that she doesn’t care to be around to witness it.  Still, she clings to the fragile hope that once the deed is done, with the ring on her finger and vows faithfully made, that maybe they’ll come around.  Maybe they love her enough to understand what she’s doing for love.  That maybe they’ll forgive her.

Well, Cissy might, in time.  She may have a stick the length of a goblin up her bum, but she’s not so bad, not really.  Not like Bella, who took all the family’s snobberies and added a generous dash of cruelty to the mix.  Andromeda knows she’ll miss Bella along with the rest of them, but there’s a small, unworthy part of her that’s almost glad her big sister is sure to never speak to her again.  Even before she’d thrown her lot in with the Death Eaters there’d been something vicious about Bella, and these days Andromeda’s actually scared of her.  Scared for her sometimes, too.

Andromeda picks up her bouquet and inhales the fresh, sweet scent of freesias.  Her mother wouldn’t approve of the informal, hand-tied bouquet.  When Bella had been matched to that horrible Lestrange boy they’d all been made to suffer through Druella Black’s thoughts on flower design, a subject Andromeda had only been slightly surprised to learn offered yet another opportunity for wealthy purebloods to parade their delusions of superiority.  But there’d been freesias growing in woods behind Great Aunt Cassiopeia’s house where they’d played as children, and Andromeda always did love their cheerful, delicate freedom.

It’s pointless, though, a folly to dwell on childhood memories.  It’s not the reality of her parents or her sisters that she’s nostalgic for anyway; what Andromeda feels is a wistful longing for the family they might have been. 

She checks her hair in the mirror for the hundredth time, shaking her head as though that might dislodge uncomfortable thoughts.  She’s getting a new family now, a family that’s warm and loving, even if she does still feel a bit awkward around Ted’s Muggle relatives.  Ted himself, though… just the thought of him makes her smile.  Ted is steadfast and true, bold enough to not give a Fwooper bird’s fart what anyone thinks of their relationship, and furiously loyal.  Andromeda considers herself extraordinarily fortunate to have found herself a man who makes her feel safe and makes her heart sing.

A loud knock at the door pulls her out of her reverie.

‘Hey, Dromeda, are you decent?’

‘Don’t open the door!’ Andromeda almost shouts, but she’s not really angry.  Just the sound of Ted’s voice lifts her spirits at once.

‘Visitor for you,’ shouts Ted.  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t peek.’

Andromeda barely has time to wonder who might be paying her a visit today of all days before the door opens and in stumbles a teenage boy wearing a Muggle-style suit and a knowing smirk.

‘Sirius!’ Andromeda grins and rushes forwards, pulling him into a hug.  ‘Why aren’t you at school?’

‘Well, I heard that my cousin was about to bring shame on the family by marrying someone wholly unsuitable,’ says Sirius with mock-solemnity.  ‘So naturally I came to show my support.’

Andromeda laughs, and she’s _so pleased_ to have someone, just one member of her own family to stand by her side as she joins a new one.  That Sirius is actually happy for her, the way families should be.

‘Thank you,’ she says.  ‘I didn’t think I’d have anyone… you know.’

‘Yeah, I know.’  Sirius’ smile is smaller now, more regretful.  ‘Ted came and tracked me down last Hogsmeade weekend.  He took care of the Muggle fancy-dress, and even helped me come up with a decent cover story for mum and McGonagall.’

Andromeda remembers Ted taking off a couple of weeks before, saying he had a surprise for her.  She’d thought he was organising the honeymoon.  Andromeda had insisted, almost convinced herself, that she didn’t mind, didn’t care that there’d be none of her own family at their wedding.  It’s only now Sirius is here she realises quite how much she does need it.  No wonder she loves Ted so much – he knows her better than she knows herself.

‘Well, it’s good to see you, squirt,’ she says, reaching out to ruffle Sirius’ hair, nevermind that he’s actually taller than her now.  ‘Should I not ask what you’re pretending to do to maintain plausible deniability?’

‘Oh, something scandalous,’ said Sirius, wiggling his eyebrows.  ‘Can’t have everyone finding out I snuck out of Hogwarts for a family wedding – that’d ruin my reputation as a lovable rogue.’

‘Give over.’  Andromeda scoffs.  ‘You’ve never got a reputation as lovable.’

Sirius laughs and at once Andromeda feels lighter, more at ease in herself.

‘I take it you’ve not told any of the others?’ he asks.

Andromeda shakes her head.  She’d considered it, weighed up the pros and cons of asking various members of her family to the wedding.  Her parents were out of the question, of course, and Bella.  But Andromeda had toyed with the idea of trying to talk Cissy into shopping in secret for bridesmaid dresses, and maybe Uncle Alphard might’ve shown his face.  In the end it’d just seemed safer not to let anyone know about the wedding, though, because it was an awful lot to ask anyone to side with her over the rest of the family.

Anyway, an invitation not extended couldn’t be rebuffed, could it?

‘As far as Blacks go, it’s just you and me,’ she said, pasting on a smile.

‘Well, we _are_ the best ones,’ says Sirius.  ‘Although you’ll be Mrs Tonks soon.  Shame – Ted’s a good bloke, but that isn’t half an ugly name.’

‘I’ll be sure to name my first child something beautiful to balance it out,’ says Andromeda.  ‘Just for you.’

Sirius grins.  ‘See that you do.’

#

The ceremony is brief, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair compared to the turgid and pompous snoozefest that Andromeda remembers from Bella’s wedding.  She gets her vows right first time, doesn’t cry, and finds herself smiling so much her cheeks start to hurt.  The whole way through, Ted looks at her like he can’t believe she’s real, and when they kiss at the end everyone cheers so much the nice Muggle lady in charge has to call for calm.

Andromeda’s so happy she has to remind herself to breathe.

Later, there’s a reception in a room above a pub, with sandwiches and sausage rolls laid on by one of Ted’s aunties, and a cake made by someone who works with his dad.  Andromeda makes polite small talk as best she can, glad that most of the guests don’t expect her to do much but smile as they tell her how beautiful she looks. 

She’d worried that someone might ask about things like what she does for a living, because how could she explain her work on rune translations to Muggles?  Apparently Muggles have heard of runes, but they don’t really know what they are.  Luckily Ted’s immediate family know better than to ask, and the more distant relatives have been told she’s an actuary for a medium-sized asset management company.  Andromeda doesn’t have the first idea what that means, but Ted assures her it sounds far too dull for any of the Muggles to press for details.

As night falls Andromeda finds herself on the dancefloor, moving to music she couldn’t begin to identify and surrounded by people who’ve clearly never had a dance lesson in their lives.  It couldn’t be more different to the weddings she’s been to before, and it couldn’t be more wonderful.  The room might be full of people Andromeda still doesn’t quite understand, but none of them care about how much money she has or who her granny shagged; all any of them want is for Ted and Andromeda to be happy.

And, oh, she is.  She really, truly is.  And if the daft grin Ted can’t seem to wipe off his face is anything to go by, he’s as happy as a sand boy too.

‘So,’ she says, as the music slows and Ted pulls her close.  ‘How’s married life suiting you so far?’

‘If the first couple of hours are anything to go by, I think it’ll suit me very well,’ says Ted.  ‘You?’

‘I think I could get used to it.’

Ted settles a quick kiss to the side of her face and squeezes Andromeda’s waist.  ‘You don’t mind missing out on a big, magical wedding?’

Andromeda sighs with contentment, and rests her head on Ted’s shoulder.  ‘I’m not missing anything at all.’


End file.
